


They Used to Be Close

by TheBurningForest



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, But only with a sibling, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Letters, Michael uses letters as a coping mechanism, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Weddings, it's super brief but still tagging it, nothing else really has changed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 15:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBurningForest/pseuds/TheBurningForest
Summary: Michael and his sister used to be close. They shared everything when they were young, from living spaces to entertainment to clothing. Hell, they even shared friends.But when Mr. and Mrs. Mell started fighting, Loralye and him drifted apart. Loralye wanted to escape, but Michael wanted to stay. She couldn’t stand the yelling and the throwing things (Neither could Michael, but he stood strong for his older sister, never admitting it outright). So, Loralye left. She went and joined the Air Force and left him alone with a broken family.





	They Used to Be Close

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat based on my family (minus the actual part of my life where my grandparents pushed each other down the stairs and never got divorced), and what might have happened if my mom and I never returned back to Michigan.
> 
> Michael actually reminds me of my uncle in the BMC canon, but my uncle and mom only have a two year age gap.

Michael and his sister used to be close. They shared everything when they were young, from living spaces to entertainment to clothing. Hell, they even shared friends.

But when Mr. and Mrs. Mell started fighting, Loralye and him drifted apart. Loralye wanted to escape, but Michael wanted to stay. She couldn’t stand the yelling and the throwing things (Neither could Michael, but he stood strong for his older sister, never admitting it outright). So, Loralye left. She went and joined the Air Force and left him alone with a broken family.

Michael tried his hardest not to blame her. He took up playing video games to take his mind off of the fights at home.

Then, the divorce happened. Michael felt helpless. He constantly sent letters to Loralye, to earn no reply. She didn’t even come to the court hearing. Jeremy tried to help, bless his soul, but it never came close to the comfort of family. Michael never felt so alone.

But life, ever the bitch, decided to one-up itself in the worst way possible. Jeremy left him alone. For months, Michael mailed letters, attempting to reconnect with a sister who he hadn’t seen for nearly five years. She never responded. He still vividly remembers the disappointment, anger, sadness, and grief that washed over him when he went to the mailbox every Thursday. After weeks of zero reponses, he began writing them therapeutically to himself, never daring to send them out.

 

_Lory,_

_I miss you. I miss Jeremy. Have I told you that he hasn’t spoken to me in months? Probably. I probably have._

_I miss him a lot. I miss playing video games with him. I bought Detroit: Become Human yesterday. Jeremy would’ve liked it. He would have made a joke about something. I can just tell._

_I bought another patch yesterday, but I don’t know why. I haven’t worn the jacket in weeks._

_I think my drug dealer’s ripping me off. He’s charging a lot more than he did last week. Hmm. I’ll have to talk to him about that. Did I tell you that I do the drugs? 420 blaze it, my sister._

_I miss you. I wish you’d just write back. Are the letters not arriving? Did you move bases? No. No, you’d tell me if you moved. Wouldn’t you?_

_Please write me back. Please._

_Younger Gremlin,_

_Micha._

 

That’s the last one he sent out. He never got a reply.

* * *

 

His mom is getting married next month, and Loralye was invited. She, surprisingly, RSVP-ed.

_I’d be happy to attend your wedding, Mom! I’d be great to see you and Michael again!_

It's been four years since he's sent her a letter.

* * *

 

Jeremy squeezes his hand. “Breathe, Micha, _breathe._ ” Michael can only nod, turning over his hand to hold Jeremy’s.

He’s happy for his mom and Mia, and he’s happy they didn’t include him as the best man. He’s already emotionally weaker at weddings, so all of the staring in his general direction wouldn’t help. He sits up front, though.

But so does she.

She sits only three chairs down, her dress taking up more space than her body. Her tanned skin sticks out against her golden dress, her brown hair is up in a tidy bun. She has a warm, comforting smile on her face, and her chocolate eyes (which are oh, so similar to Michael’s own) are glazed over as she looks ahead at the happy couple.

Michael wants to talk to her, he really does. He just feels… betrayed. Betrayed and alone. Betrayed and alone and moronic for feeling so alone as he holds the love of his life’s hand.

 

Michael doesn’t approach her after the ceremony. She doesn’t approach him. Rather, a child wearing a jacket and sweatpants does. She taps him on the shoulder, and he turns around, shocked to see a thirteen year old girl at the after-party of a wedding.

“Hey,” The girl says, her southern accent thick. “Are ya' Michael?” He nods.

“Yeah, I’m the infamous Michael,” He stares at her. “What’s up?”

“Ma wants to speak to ya’.”

“Who’s this ‘Ma’?’” He gasps, his eccentric nature outweighing his disdain for talking to kids. “Are you part of a mob? Am I going to die? Is ‘Ma’ gonna kill me?”

The girl snorts. “Loralye. That’s my ma’.”

Michael’s eyes widen. _Loralye has a kid?_ “Where is Lora?” The girl points in the general direction of the bar.

“There.” Michael nods.

“Can you do me a favor?” He asks. She looks at him, confusion only prominent in her eyes. “If a pale, white boy with a black suit asks where I went, keep him busy? Please?”

She looks panicked, but only for a moment. “I ain’t promisin’ shit, but I won’t tell him where ya’ went.”

Michael doesn’t bat an eye at her strong language, seeing how Loralye always had a bad sailor mouth as a kid. “Thanks, kid.”

“Owen.”

“Thanks, _Owen._ ” Michael decides he likes this kid’s attitude. He walks towards the bar, ready to face his sister for the first time in a decade.

“Micha!” Loralye calls out, her voice just how he’d expect it to sound, if not a little slurred. “Come ‘ere!” She waves a hand above her head. He slides into the stool next to her, shocked to see at least seven empty glasses in front of her. “I saw ya’ met Owen, the little shit. Hope he didn’t talk yer ear off!”

He smiles weakly. “No, she- _he’s_ great. Good kid.” He winces as his voice cracks on the word ‘Kid.’

“So, how’ve ya’ been?”

“Good. How are you?”

“Great! Marcus’s still an ass, even though the divorce was years ago!” She’s yelling.

“Who’s Marcus?” He regrets asking, seeing how Loralye’s face falls.

“Ex husband. Met him on the base. Owen’s dad,” She shakes her head. “I hate that guy.” He nods sympathetically. “Ah, sorry. For that. Just wanted to catch up with ya’. Love ya’!” He’s promptly shooed out, waving farewell.

 _That wasn’t the reunion I thought it would be,_ He mentally sighs. He slowly maneuvers over to the table, only to find Jeremy and Owen in deep conversation.

“-elling you that the movie was overrated!” Owen almost shouts. Jeremy looks offended.

“The Apocalypse of the Damned film was a classic!” He argues. Michael smiles.

“Sorry to intrude, but I need to steal this dork,” Michaels grabs Jeremy’s hand. Owen nods.

“Take him. An’ educate him,” Owen says. Michael laughs, leading Jeremy out of the party.

* * *

 

A few days after the wedding, Michael returns to his moms’ house. He’s just cleaning up the guest room, the one room he and Jeremy stayed in, when he hears the front door open.

He doesn’t think much of it, maybe his mom or Mia forgot to grab one of their bags. He continues packing up, and then he stops. The door creaks open.

“Micha,” Loralye says, voice watery and slow. Michael turns to face her. Her face has visible tear tracks, and she looks a mess. Loralye runs up and hugs him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks into her hair. She shakes with silent sobs.

“Mi-Micha, I’m so, so, so so-sorry!” Michael holds his older sister as her tears soak his shirt. “I didn’t know… I did-I didn’t know!”

“Shh… What didn’t you know?”

She backs out of her brother’s chest, handing him a paper. He takes it, recognizing it as one of his letters, one he didn’t send.

 

_Loralye,_

_I miss you. I know, every letter says that. I know, but it’s true. I miss you, and I miss Jeremy._

_I talked to him today. I tried to, at least. He called me a loser. The SQUIP was deactivated and he called me a loser. I wouldn’t hurt as bad if the floppy disc was telling him to yell at me.. But, he could see me. He could see me and he called me a loser. I can’t hate him. I can’t hate you._

_I just hate myself._

_Where did I go wrong? What made him hate me? What made you hate me? I know, it’s been weeks since I’ve sent a letter, but you haven’t ever written me back. Not the first time, not the last time._

_I love you, I really do._

_But I want to know why you never talk to me anymore._

_Who are you kidding, Mell? You aren’t going to send this._

 

He remembers writing this. He can still make out splotchy tear marks in the paper.

Loralye hugs him tight. “I never hated you, Micha. I _could never_ hate you,” She whispers. Michael joins the tear-fest. “My mail kept gettin’ trashed. I’m sorry, I’m so, sorry.”

The two siblings stand in relative silence, save for muffled sobs and hiccups. Michael’s just happy that he has Loralye back in his life. She seems happy to be back.

“I forgive you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I start sc(hell)ool tomorrow and I'm dying inside
> 
> anyways I might make this a series about be more chill in an alternate universe where Loralye Mell exists. What do you think?


End file.
